A Mid September's Snow
by madderthanahatter55
Summary: Canada has lived in peace for years, but for the last year, he's found himself plagued by bloody nightmares of war and Violet eyes. It's not long after that he finds himself in the midst of war between him and his family. RusCan, One-Sided AmeCan
1. The Nightmares

Just keep running. It was a simple as that, just keep running, don't slow down, don't turn back, just keep running; save yourself, and get as far away as possible! Matthew was breathless, and his legs were on fire with strain, but he had to keep going. He thought he was far enough away, thought he had put enough distance between himself and the other soldiers. He climbed up a tree just to be sure, and rested for a moment. His lungs burned every time he took a breath, and he struggled to swallow.

"You shouldn't have stopped running…" A cold voice, filled with amusement, said from behind. Matthew tensed as he craned his neck to see where the voice was coming from, and who it belonged to. Matthew's pale violet eyes were wide with horror as another set of violets stared into his own. The tall figure, masked by the darkness, wore a bloodied smile, and at his side, a bloody sword dangled.

"S-Stay away from me you monster!" Matthew screamed as he scrambled to stand on the branch. A low chuckle escaped the figure's mouth.  
>"Oh, I'M the monster? This coming from the boy who single handedly destroyed and overran three countries, and made his way into a fourth. Burning down all those towns, destroying resources…Heh, yes, truly I am the monster." The figure raised the sword into the air. "No matter, it'll all be over in a moment." He brought the sword down and everything went black and red.<p>

"Mattie! Mattie wake up, it's just a dream!" Alfred was sitting on Matthew, shaking his shoulders desperately. Matthew's eyes flew open as he gasped for air, tears soaking his cheeks and pillows. Alfred sighed in relief and relaxed. "Dude, are you alright? I could hear you screaming from downstairs…" Alfred got off and set next to his younger brother on the bed, running his hand through Matthew's damp hair.

Matthew shuddered at the memory and sat up, sighing. He couldn't remember most of the dream, all he could remember was violet eyes, a bone-chilling laugh, and the immense pain he felt at the end of the dream. He let his head fall into his hands, trying to calm himself down. Alfred rubbed his back, looking terribly worried. "Bro…?" Matthew shook his head and stood, walking out of the room without a word. Alfred sighed and looked down with saddened eyes; this was the third time this week alone his brother had woken up screaming, and Alfred had no idea how the hell to get the nightmares to stop. This one seemed especially bad. Alfred sighed again and followed Matthew down the stairs.

"I don't want to talk about it Al." Matthew muttered when they were both sitting at the table, Matthew eating breakfast and Alfred watching him intently. He looked up at Alfred over the rim of his glasses, and rolled his eyes, sighing. "Oh for God's sake! If I tell you, will you stop watching me like that?" Alfred nodded frantically. Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose; he knew that his brother meant well, but he could be so irritating sometimes.

"Alright…I can't remember most of the dream, but it's almost the same as all the others..." Matthew started as he racked his brain for the details. "It was another war, and I was running through a forest, I think. I was being chased or something and I thought I had lost whoever was chasing me; I just had to stop, I couldn't keep running. I climbed up a tree and sat on a branch, resting and catching my breath, and then He appeared." Matthew stopped and looked over at Alfred, who furrowed his brow.

"Is it the same guy in every dream? The one with the violet eyes?" Matthew nodded and Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Go on. You were sitting on the branch…" Matthew nodded again and looked out the window, his chin resting on his palm.

"Well, He appeared, sword dangling from his hand. His mouth and the sword were stained with blood and he simply laughed, saying I should've kept running." Matthew furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of his dream. "And then he said something about me being a monster, about how the war in my dream was my fault…" He shrugged and turned to his brother, who was looking at him with intensity. "What? It's not that big of a deal, okay? Just a dream…" Matthew shrugged again and picked up his bowl of half eaten cereal, and stood, dumping the remains into the sink.

"…Clearly it is a big deal Matt. You've been having these dreams for months now, always the same setting, always the same guy." Alfred stood and took Matthew's hands, pressing his forehead to his brother's. Matthew blushed at Alfred's proximity.

"I-It's not a big deal…Worse comes to worse, I talk to Arthur and ask his opinion…" Matthew mumbled. Alfred sighed and pushed the hair from Matthew's face, resting his lips on his brother's temple. Matthew closed his eyes, his mind wandering. His older brother's breath was warm against his forehead.

"I won't let anyone hurt you Mattie…I'm your big brother, I'll always protect you…" Alfred whispered against Matthew's soft skin as he wrapped his arms around his brother in a protective embrace. Alfred's lips caressed Matthew's soft, baby-skinned cheek, but he pulled away.

"N-No…I already told you not to do that…" Matthew was bright red, but Alfred pulled him back, connecting their lips. Matthew tried to protest, but eventually gave up and let his brother kiss him. _This shouldn't be happening…we're brothers!_ He thought to himself. His hands clenched in Alfred's shirt, tears streaking down his face as the elder pulled away. Both of them were flushed red and Matthew's glasses had fogged up from the tears. Alfred smiled sadly and wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"I'm so sorry Mattie…I didn't mean to make you cry…" He kissed Matthew's forehead apologetically as he pulled away and went back upstairs. Matthew trembled as he attempted to do the dishes. So many things ran through his mind at once as he worked. Why did Alfred insist on kissing him like that? They were brothers! Who was the man in his dreams? He seemed terribly familiar, but Matthew just couldn't place him. Those violet eyes were embroidered in his memory, and no matter how many times he tried to think of something else, their spectacular color popped back in his mind. He sighed and set the plates down, staring aimlessly out the window. Why wouldn't those beautiful eyes leave him alone?

.:.

"You seem preoccupied Mon Petite Matthieu… Is everything alright?" Francis had a quizzical look on his face, implying that he knew something was wrong. Matthew faked a reassuring smile and shook his head.

"I'm alright, don't worry. I've just been tired lately." Francis studied his former 'son' carefully and sighed.

"Fine, don't tell me then, but I'm all ears if you want to talk." Francis whispered as the meeting started. Matthew sighed and laid his head down on the table. His violet eyes were darker than normal, and this change was only emphasized by the dark circles under that had formed. His eyelids fluttered closed and he slowly sank into unconsciousness.

.:.

Matthew's legs burned from strain and fire, black smoke filled his lungs, making it harder to breathe. Every intake of breath was like a million needles puncturing his organs. He was incredibly fast, but no matter how hard his feet hit the ground, he just couldn't seem to outrun the fire that surrounded the forest. Just keep running Matthew! Just keep running!

A sudden tree-root stuck its way into Matthew's path, and brought him down hard. His glasses shattered, and the tiny amount of breath actually in him flew out with a _whoosh! _He felt a warm liquid rise in his throat and dribble down his mouth. He heard the crunching of leaves, and the same horrid laughter.

"Poor Mattvey, you seem so tired. Why don't you stop running, da? After all, you must be fed up with all this fighting…" The same man from before stepped beside Matthew's body, leaning down and stroking Matthew's blood covered hair. His violet eyes had specks of red flicked through them, and Matthew could make out his body shape in the intense moonlight. He had a thick, Russian accent, and once again, Matthew was on the verge of remembering, as if there was a memory stored deep within him trying to bust through his mind.

"Why do you keep doing this to me? Every night, the same thing…" The Russian's smile was much more loving than other nights, but the glint of humor in his eyes made Matthew flinch. To Matthew's bitter surprise, the man's touch was warm and loving as it stroked Matthew's coarse, cracked skin.

"There's no need to worry anymore, it'll all be over soon…" Matthew barely had time to furrow his eyebrows before a sword was shoved through his chest. Blood spurted from his mouth as everything around him went black. The last thing he saw, or thought he saw, was a single tears fall from those beautiful Violet eyes.

"Matthieu! Matthieu, wake up!" A soft voice filtered through his mind, though it seemed muffled. He felt someone or something shaking his body, but everything felt numb, everything but a piercing pain in his chest. His eyes flew open and he took in a deep breath, coughing harshly as air filled his longs once again. He looked around, trying to understand what had happened. Half of the countries were standing over him, staring at him with curiosity. Francis was over him, shaking his shoulders as he lay in Alfred's arms.

"F-Francis? W…What happened?" Matthew placed his hand to his head, groaning as he sat up. Alfred rubbed his back, looking just as worried as Francis, and they shared a glance. The two picked Matthew up and escorted him out of the room while the others watched, still utterly confused. Once they were out of the room and the door was shut, Francis offered Matthew a bottle of water, which he downed quickly, as though he hadn't drunken anything in months. Once again, Alfred and Francis shared a look.

"Mattie, is there….Is there something wrong with your country? Cause dude, I could totally lend you some help if you need it, but you gotta tell me, Bro!" Alfred's baby blues shone with concern for his younger brother, and Francis's expression matched.

"What are you talking about? There's nothing wrong with my country, or the economy. Why do you ask?" Matthew was confused now, and for the third time, Alfred and Francis shared a glance.

"Mon Petite…You collapsed in there, you weren't breathing. You were out for quite a few minutes. Are you absolutely positive there's nothing wrong?" Francis searched Matthew's pale, fair skinned face with worry, but Matthew attempted a reassuring smile, but it only made Francis more skeptical.

"Look, if there is something wrong, I'm sure my boss will tell me, but as of now, he's said nothing, so clearly there's nothing wrong. If something comes up, you two will be the first to know." With that, Matthew turned on his heel, away from the meeting room, and walked away, feeling much too tired to try to go back in. Alfred sighed and he and Francis went back inside, not saying a word of what happened.

It was already snowing by the time Matthew got outside and headed home, and it seemed the temperature dropped 20 degrees. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, turning the collar up, and trudged through the snow that had already fallen. He wandered around a bit, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what had happened during the meeting. _The dreams are becoming reality, _he finally determined. And as crazy as it seemed, it wasn't unheard of, but he hoped to the high heavens that his dreams were only dreams, because if they weren't, there was about to be a war, a war that he himself was apparently responsible for.

"It's just a dream Matthew, nothing more. Why would I start a war?" Matthew sighed and shivered again. His pace had begun to slow, and it soon became hard to breathe. "Just a dream…" He'd barely finished the thought when he collapsed in the snow, shivering and unconscious.

Matthew came to a few hours later, his eyes fluttering open. The light was too intense for him to see; all he saw were a pair of eyes. His breathing nearly stopped and his eyes widened. Deep violet irises stared back at him, filled with concern. A warm, soothing hand wiped at his forehead with a wet-rag, but he still couldn't get over the shock. The violet eyes, the same ones he'd been seeing for more than a year, the familiarity of it all, it all made sense now.

"R…Russia…?"


	2. Bombs and Russians

The Russian smiled down at Matthew, his deep violet eyes warm and loving as he dipped a wet rag in a bucket of water, wrung it out, and placed it on Matthew's forehead again.

"You collapsed about a mile from the conference. It's a good thing I saw you when I did, you could've frozen to death out there. You must be exhausted, da? To not be able to make it home…" He smiled sweetly down at him, and Matthew's heart skipped a beat. Something was off about this; was Russia really the one he'd been seeing in his dreams? He seemed so…innocent! While it's true that at one time, Russia had been ruthless, Matthew highly doubted Russia would hurt him.

Matthew stared at him with curiosity and fascination. It had been years since Matthew had seen Russia, since things between him and Alfred weren't in the best conditions since the Cold War, Russia had stopped coming to the meetings, much to Matthew's dismay. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even Alfred, but he had had a crush on Russia for a long time, and he'd wanted to get to know him and be friends. But when he and Alfred went to war, they were kept apart for a long time, despite their once good friendship.

"Kanada, you are feeling better, Da? Your fever has dropped drastically, so I think you're alright…" Matthew sighed. So he did have a fever; that explained the fire in his dream, and perhaps even why he collapsed during the conference. "I hope you do not mind that I have brought you back to my home, since it was much closer than yours." He blinked, thinking he saw the hint of a blush in Russia's cheeks, but he decided it was the trick of the light.

"Ah, th-thank you Russia…I-I appreciate it, but I-I think I'm okay now." Matthew sat up and almost passed out from feeling so sick. He lurched forward, trying to keep his breakfast down, and took deep breaths.

"Ah! K-Kanada should be more careful!" Russia pressed his forehead to Matthew's, who blushed profusely. Russia's breath was warm against Matthew's hot face, and smelled sickly sweet. "You still have a fever; you should get your rest." He moved away and gently pressed Matthew's shoulder, signaling for him to lie back. Matthew nodded and laid his head back down, shivering as he closed his eyes.

"Thank you again, Russia..." Matthew managed a smile and quickly dozed off. He felt warm lips touch his forehead, and the blanket wrap tighter around him, and he sighed happily as he slipped further and further unconscious.

.:.

His nightmares came quicker and with much more force than before as Matthew found himself running for his life through the forest, bullets zooming past him. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to get away, screaming for help.

"Mattvey! This way!" A familiar voice shouted to him from up ahead. He pushed his legs harder as he ran towards the voice, in hopes it would lead him to safety. A rouge bullet found its way into Matthew's back, and dropped him like a stone. He cried out in agony, unable to move at all. He looked up when he heard a noise from in front of him, and once again, he dove into a pair of beautiful violet eyes.

"Mattvey…" The figure offered a strong hand to Matthew, but he couldn't move at all. The figure sighed and knelt beside Matthew, stroking his hair.

"I-I don't understand! Why? Why do you keep changing?" Matthew was hysterical, desperate for answers. Why did he keep having these dreams? Was the man with the violet eyes really Russia? If so, why did his personality change in almost every dream?

"I'm sorry, Moya Lyubov, but it will all be answered soon enough. I promise…" Another sharp pain overtook Matthew, and everything turned black. He was cold, colder than the snow that covered his country, and he was incredibly tired. A scream pierced his eardrums as he drifted back to the real world, and a muffled voice called out to him.

"Kanada! Kanada, wake up, it's alright! I'm right here, don't worry, I'm right here!" Matthew gasped, his eyes flying open, immediately seeing the violet eyes that tormented him.

"NO! I won't let you kill me!" He was delusional obviously, but Russia still looked taken aback. Matthew's breath was coming in short, shallow gasps for air as he completely came out of his dream. He blinked and stiffened, realizing what he had said. "R-Russia, I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean it…" Matthew felt terrible, and the guilt was evident in his eyes. Russia merely smiled and shook his head in understanding.

"It's quite alright, Kanada. You were having a nightmare, da? Do you want to talk about it?" Russia's voice was kind as he took the wet rag that lay in Matthew's lap and re-dipped it into the water. Matthew shook his head and lay back down, hugging the blankets tightly to him as the Russian man replaced the rag. Russia nodded in understanding. "That's fine. If you do ever want to talk, I'm always here."

"…H-Hey Russia…? Why are you being so kind to me? I-I mean, I'm Alfred's baby brother, and you hate him…so don't you hate me too?" This thought had been bugging Matthew since he had awoken the first time. It made sense, considering Alfred and Ivan's pure hatred for each other. Russia raised a quizzical eyebrow at the young Canadian.

"Why would I hate you? Yes, your brother and I don't have the best of relationships, but I wouldn't hate you because of it. If anyone could hate you for what their brother or anyone else has done, well…" Russia blushed a bit and took a deep breath. "Well, they'll never know how much of an amazing person you are." Matthew's eyes widen as he blushed softly. Russia smiled sheepishly down at the blond and stroked his hair again. "You really are an amazing person Kanada…" Russia leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Matthew's forehead.

"Y-You don't have to call me Canada…I-If you want, my name is Matthew…" He turned away, blushing profusely, and Ivan merely stared at him, happiness in his eyes. Matthew glanced back and smiled softly. "I-I would prefer you call me Matthew…"

"A-Alright then…M…" Russia's face twisted a bit, trying to pronounce the name. He furrowed his brow. "Mahthew…" Matthew giggled, making Russia blush in embarrassment. "Oh! Mattvey!" It wasn't the proper translation, but it was close, and it made Matthew smile. Russia was still blushing, but he too smiled, his eyelids half closed. It appeared to Matthew that the Russian man before him, with the gorgeous Violet eyes, and starlight hair, was moving ever closer to him. Their lips brushed just barely against each other, but it was more than enough to drive both men wild.

"R-Russia, w-wait…" Matthew pulled away before they went too far, much to Russia's disappointment.

"I-I'm sorry…I shouldn't have forced myself onto you, especially when you're sick…A-And you may call me Ivan." Ivan straightened and smiled slightly.

"I-Ivan, I-I didn't mean that you-.." Matthew was cut midsentence by a loud crash and an angry voice.

"Mattie! Mattie are you in here?" Alfred burst through the door, his gaze immediately dropping onto Ivan. He growled, his fists clenching at his side. "What the hell did you do to him Braginski?" Alfred snarled.

"You mean other than save him from freezing to death?" Ivan glared at the American with utter hatred, and it appeared that they might just blow each other's heads off if someone didn't step in.

"Alright, alright, that's enough, understand? Everyone needs to calm the bloody hell down before this gets out of control." Another blond, closer to Ivan in age, walked into the room. His thick eyebrows were furrowed in frustration, his British accent thick. "Can't anyone behave for more than 5 minutes?" Matthew sat up, feeling dizzy and sick again, and looked over to his brother.

"A-Alfred, why are you here?" Alfred looked shocked, and a bit hurt. Matthew sighed and rubbed his temple. "Look, just go home; I'll be there in a bit." Alfred laughed like he'd just heard the funniest thing ever.

"HAH! You're hysterically funny if you think I'm leaving you here a second longer." Alfred walked over, and carefully picked his baby brother up off the bed. He pressed a kiss to Matthew's ear, whispering chillingly into it. "You're only mine…" Matthew shivered and turned his gaze to Ivan.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me Ivan…" Ivan smiled and nodded. Alfred stared at Matthew in horror but threw a glare at Ivan before taking Matthew home.

.:.

"How could you do that Mattie? How could you stay with Commie son of a bitch?" Alfred was pissed as he paced around the living room. Matthew sighed and rubbed his temple with his forefinger and thumb. This had been going on for an hour now, ever since they had gotten home, and it seemed endless. Matthew's fever was back, and instead of taking care of him like a big brother should, Alfred was lecturing him. He sighed again and rolled his eyes.

"It's not like I had much of a choice Alfred, I collapsed! If you loved me, you'd be thanking him! He saved me Alfred, and I'm absolutely grateful to him!" Matthew sighed in frustration and stood, nearly collapsed with a dizzy spell. Alfred's arms were around him quickly, holding Matthew to his chest tightly.

"Don't strain yourself Mattie, I've got you…" Alfred's breath was warm, only adding to the heat on Matthew's forehead. His lips pressed gently to the smaller blonde's burning skin and down his face, stopping just short of his lips. "I love you Mattie…" Alfred pressed his lips firmly against Matthew's, who, due to the fever, was too weak to try and fight him off. Alfred pulled back after a few seconds, gazing into his brother's violet eyes.

"S-Stop doing that to me…! I love you Alfred, but not like that! I'm your brother and your friend, nothing more!" Alfred released Matthew, who swayed with unease. Alfred looked hurt and betrayed at Matthew's words and looked away.

"Mattie….I didn't mean for you to feel that way, I'm sorry… I'll go back to America, if that's what you want…" Alfred had already turned and headed for the door, obviously upset.

"N-No…Alfred, wait ple-…" It was as Alfred was opening the door and to the snow of Mid-November Ontario that the entire city erupted in a burst of white light. Alfred and Matthew were thrown backwards and the windows exploded from the blast. Alfred was the first to rise as he moved with difficulty over to Matthew.

"M-Mattie…? Bro, are you alright? H-Hey, say something Mattie…Mattie?" Alfred shook Matthew's shoulders and pushed him to his back, exposing his bloodied body. Alfred screamed his name, trying to wake him up, but he was out cold, losing blood and a horrifying pace. Had Matthew been hit by something, that wasn't possible! Alfred had been standing in an open doorway when the bomb went off, but he was fine. Sudden realization hit him and he gasped. No…Ontario had been attacked, and Matthew took the blunt of it.

Matthew's dream state came quickly, and though it was the same nightmare as before, something seemed off. The violet eyes appeared before him, but they were saddened as they stared down at Matthew. "Mattvey…You must hold on just a little longer. Please Mattvey, I nee-…" The violet eyed man was cut off, and blood splattered onto Matthew's face. The violet eyes grew dark and the man collapsed in front of the small Canadian.

"Poor 'Mattvey'…," A voice chirped in a bloodied blade exposed in the moonlight. "It must suck to have everyone you love stripped away from you, right before your eyes." A figure emerged fully in the moonlight, Violet eyes shimmering in amusement. Matthew's eyes widened in horror, staring at his perfect copy, from his eyes to his hair curl.

"No…No, not you, anything but you!" Tears coated Matthew's cheeks as his doppelganger personality, the part of him that took over every time Matthew was involved in a war, moved closer to him.

"Oh, it's me alright, my precious little Mattie, and you know what that means?" A crooked smile spread on his face. "It means bye-bye innocent little Mattie, and hello Matthew Williams, the worst force to ever be messed with. We'll rule the world together Matthew, we'll kill them all, together!" The doppelganger's laugh filled the entire forest as he plunged the sword deep into Matthew's chest.

.:.

"MATTIE! Please wake up! Please don't leave me Mattie!" Matthew could hear Alfred crying, but it was muffled and distorted. His consciousness swam back to the surface, and with a jolt and a gasp, Matthew saw up quickly, wide awake. "Mattie? Bro, c-calm down, y-you're alright…" Alfred's voice trembled as he wiped his eyes. Hot tears coated Matthew's cheeks as he turned to Alfred.

"A-Alfred…it's me; I'm the murderer in my dreams. I'm going to start the next war."


	3. Rescued

Alfred stared at Matthew for a long time, not saying anything, not ABLE to say anything. Matthew was rocking back and forth, his body trembling, both from pain and horror. After what seemed like an eternity, Alfred finally spoke.

"What do you mean YOU'RE the murderer from the dreams?" Alfred furrowed his brow and rubbed Matthew's back soothingly. He bit his lip and looked around for Matthew's cellphone, thinking he should probably call Francis and Arthur.

"E-Exactly what I said; th-the man from the dreams is me. Er, okay, it's not ME; it's my other personality…" Matthew dried his eyes and looked at Alfred, whose mouth formed an "O" in understanding. It wasn't unusual for a country to have more than one personality; even happy-go-lucky countries like Italy had their dark side. Though Alfred was still shocked; this was the first time Matthew's other half has shown its face since America burned Canada's capitol all those years ago.

"….Mattie, I think you need to talk to Francis and Arthur…I-I know it's probably the last thing you want, but they need to know. A-And hey, they may even be able to help you know…." Alfred tried to stay hopeful, though it was unlikely that Matthew would agree to this. Sure enough, Matthew fidgeted with uncertainty, and Alfred's hope completely died when Matthew turned to him with a begging expression.

"I-It'll be okay if we don't t-tell them. I-I mean, I've already got Francis so worried…a-and I've always been such a burden to Arthur…I can handle this on my own, honest Al." Matthew attempted a reassuring smile, but Alfred wouldn't have it. His eyes flicked to the cell phone next to the overturned table and back to Alfred. Matthew followed Alfred's gaze and gasped. "No…Alfred, don't!" Alfred lunged before Matthew could stop him, and had Arthur's number dialed before Matthew could even stagger to his hands and knees.

Arthur's voice rang through the speaker. "What is it Matthew, I'm busy." Matthew flinched at Arthur's tone, his eyes downcast.

"Arthur it's me, Alfred. We need you and Francis to get over here as quickly as you can, there's a major problem…" The other line was quiet for a moment, and a long sigh was heard.

"Fine, I'll be there as soon as I can with the Frog, just sit tight okay?" The line went dead and Alfred clicked the end button, turning to a furious Matthew. His eyes widened as he looked at his brother, how much darker his aura seemed.

Matthew's eyes were at least three shades darker, and his fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His entire body was trembling, but Alfred couldn't tell if it was from the pain Matthew was enduring at the moment or if he was blinded by fury. "M-Mattie…?" Alfred's voice shook a little as he watched his brother. There was very few times in his existence that Alfred could remember he was actually afraid, and now, he was terrified. He watched his brother struggle to stand, and nearly collapse with pain, but Matthew managed to stay aloft.

"I-I told you not to call him! E-Everyone has enough to worry about, so why do you have to screw it all up?" Tears of anger ran down Matthew's cheeks as he rushed forward, ready to slug the hell out of Alfred. He gasped as pain consumed him and collapsed into his brother's arms, blood dripping from his mouth.

"M-Mattie? Mattie, hang in there bro! Come on, stay with me, please!" Alfred sank to his knees, cradling Matthew's limp body. "Come on, you can't do this Matthew. Fight it! You can do it, I know you can, I've seen you do it before!" Alfred searched his brother's pale face and wiped the tears from it. His skin was baby-soft and warm to the touch.

"Alfie…" Matthew opened his paling eyes and smiled. "I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to…" He trailed off when he saw tears coat his brother's cheeks. "N-No, please don't cry! I-I'm alright, see?" He sat up and cried out in pain, clutching his bloody and clothed chest in desperation. He had no idea where the explosion had come from, nor why it was sent at Ontario in the first place, but the blast had left him brutally injured, and he was starting to black out.

"Mattie…You need to stay awake okay? Arthur and Francis will be here soon, so just stay awake with me until then okay?" Alfred was desperate to keep Matthew awake, but it was difficult, he knew. "So, please talk with me until they get here, as long as you stay awake…" Matthew nodded.

"Wh-What do you want to talk about…?" Matthew knew very well he had to stay awake, and it had been quite some time since they'd had a true Heart-To-Heart, so he figured what the hell.

"…Do you hate me Mattie?" The question made Matthew's mouth fall open and stare at Alfred in disbelief.

"A-Alfred, how could you possibly think I hate you? I love you, you're my brother after all, so how could you possibly think that?" Matthew couldn't even believe Alfred would ask something like that, and he felt incredibly hurt. Alfred swallowed and looked away, sighing.

"I-I…I was just wondering…You give me such a cold shoulder sometimes, and that really hurts Mattie…" Alfred looked down at his brother, looking saddened and as hurt as Matthew felt. "And how can you say I'm only your brother Mattie…? We could be so much more than that; we could be the strongest force in the world…" Alfred began to lean in, brushing his lips against Matthew's.

"N-No! Stop it Alfred, that's e-enough!" Matthew pulled away sharply and cried out, clutching at his chest. The pain was getting worse, and he couldn't even move in the slightest without there being pain.

"Why Matthew? Why won't you love me the way I love you? Why won't you let me have you the way I need you?" Alfred gripped Matthew's arms with a horrid force and shook him as he spoke. He cried out in agony, feeling his bones crumble under Alfred's grip.

"A-Alfie, i-it hurts! Stop it please, it hurts!" Matthew cried out, trying to get Alfred to stop, but his grip didn't loosen in the slightest, and he only seemed to get stronger.

The sound of a gunshot made the brothers freeze in their tracks and turn to where they heard the gun. Matthew gasped as his eyes fell on a tall figure with starlight hair, his arm reaching to the sky and a gun at the end of it. "I-Ivan, wh-what are you doing here?" Matthew couldn't keep the smile from spreading on his face when he saw the Russian standing in his doorway. Alfred, on the other hand, was not very pleased. A low growl escaped him and he gripped Matthew tighter, causing him to cry out.

"I believe it's time for America to leave Mattvey alone, da?" A terrifying smile crossed Ivan's face as he pointed the gun at Alfred, his finger teasing the trigger. Alfred scoffed.

"What the hell are you doing here, Commie? Come to see if your bomb destroyed us?" Alfred sneered at the Russian man before him, who wore a look of confusion.

"My bomb? You are wrong comrade; I merely came to see if Mattvey was alright…" His voice trailed at the end as his eyes landed on the gaping hole in Matthew's chest. In a few swift steps, Ivan had pried Matthew from Alfred's grip, and held him in his own arms. Alfred was on his feet quickly, and the two glared at each other. Matthew was sure that if Ivan was not holding him, the two would be trying to kill each other already.

"What the bloody hell happened here? My god, we can't leave you alone for an hour without you getting yourself blown up!" Arthur's criticizing voice filtered through the room as he and Francis made their way through the rubble. "I don't remember Alfred giving me this much trouble…" Matthew heard Arthur mumble under his breath. He cringed at that, his eyes downcast as he curled tighter in Ivan's arms.

"A bomb went off, one that I'm sure that stupid Commie set off! Mattie's pretty hurt…" Alfred, to his credibility, did seem concerned for his younger brother, but it seemed his hatred for Ivan blocked out any indication.

"It was not my fault, nor my bomb! I could see the explosion from back home, and I wanted to check on my friend; pardon my concerns, Capitalist Pig…" Ivan smirked at Alfred's rage and held Matthew tighter. "Since it seems none of you care about what happens to this young Canadian, I'm taking him with me." Ivan wasted no time in stealing Matthew away from his family and heading back towards his plane. What hurt more than Arthur's comment for Matthew was that no one seemed to care that he was basically being kidnapped. Despite the pain in his chest, Matthew sobbed into Ivan, taking the Russian by surprise.

"Mattvey..? Please do not cry, you'll be alright, I promise. Russian doctors are very good ones, and will fix Mattvey up back to perfection." Ivan offered a smile, but it only hurt Matthew more. Why was it that an almost complete stranger cared more for Matthew than his family did? That wasn't fair at all! Ivan sighed and helped him onto the plane and into a seat, taking the one beside the still sobbing Canadian. When both were buckled in, Ivan wrapped his strong arms around Matthew and held him while he cried. "I'm sorry for them, my sunflower; it's not fair to have such an uncaring family…" Ivan's voice was soft as he tried to coax the sobbing Canadian into calmness.

"I-I don't understand it! I-I've always been the least helpless, always been the one who's been there when someone needed a punching bag! The one time I need help, they don't even care…" He closed his eyes, his head resting on the other's shoulder. "I wish I could just die…just disappear for good. It's not like anyone would miss me…" Ivan jerked away, casing Matthew to gasp, and took the Canadian's face in his big hands. Matthew barely had time to take a breath before Ivan smashed their lips together in a passionate kiss. Despite its passion, Ivan kept the kiss chaste, and after a few seconds, pulled away from a flushed and breathless Matthew.

"Please…Please don't EVER say something like that again! It's not true Mattvey; I would miss you so much…I know we haven't been very close in the past, but…" Ivan trailed off, not sure if he should finish what he was going to say. The healing Canadian beside him was waiting impatiently for Ivan to continue, to give him a reason to believe anyone would miss him. "…Mattvey, I've been in love with you since the moment we met. That is why I will never let you take your life, you understand, da?" Matthew stared in utter disbelief, unable to say anything. Ivan sighed and pulled away, knowing how creepy it must have sounded. "F-Forgive me, but I can't bear to hear to you speak like that…I understand if you don't feel the same way, but always know that someone out there loves you for you, and I always will Mattvey." He looked into Matthew's violet eyes that were quickly filling with tears.

"Ivan…." Tears spilled over Matthew's cheeks and he leaned in, bringing their lips together again in a gentle embrace. He pulled away, seeming paler than before, and whispered as his head fell onto Ivan's shoulder. "Thank you…" He let his eyes drift close and his body fall limp against Ivan as they took off. Panic rose within the Russian and he immediately started barking orders at some of the doctors he had on flight. Once safely in the air, the doctors took Matthew away and began to fix him up to the best of their ability. Ivan stared out the window, watching as the Canadians tried to figure out what had happen, and who had attacked them.

"…To attack such an innocent country, such an innocent boy…" He sighed and continued to watch as the landscape changed from white tree tops and greenery to the familiarity of his homeland.

.:.

Matthew stood in the middle of a flower field, filled mostly with sunflowers. It was so familiar, and very warm, but he was a bit uneasy. There was something wrong; he could feel it in the way the wind shifted. A soft, warm voice from behind him, calling his name, and made his heart flutter and a smile spread on his face.

"You're here…" His smile grew warmer as the Violet-eyed, starlight haired man made his way to Matthew.

"Da…I will always be here for you, Moya Lyubov. No matter what happens to us, to you, we are never going to be apart…" His voice was soft as he wrapped his arms around Matthew, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I love you Mattvey, I'll stay with you no matter what, so you must stay strong…" The Russian trailed off at the end, and his lips brushed gently against Matthew's temple.

"Ivan...," He looked up at the Russian who held him in his arms. "You sound like something bad is going to happen…" Matthew raised an eyebrow as he studied Ivan's features. He seemed paler than usual, and he also seemed upset, like he was fighting a battle in his head. Matthew's brow furrowed as he watched, raising his hand to gently caress Ivan's cheek. "Tell me what's going on…"

Ivan merely shook his head and brought their lips together in a soft embrace, keeping them together just a few moments longer than needed. When he pulled away, he pressed their foreheads and whispered against the other's skin. "I love you, Mattvey." The flowers in the field all died and withered, and a harsh wind picked up. The dead petals attacked them, swarming them in a suffocating embrace.

"I-Ivan!" Matthew cried out, but Ivan was gone, and in he was terrified. He closed his eyes tightly, whimpering. "W-Wake up, come on, you can get yourself out of this, just wake up!" He begged his mind to release him, not wanting the next part to happen. "Please! Please let me go, I can't take it!" For the first time since he could remember, Matthew awakened not screaming, and Ivan was by his side.

"You're awake Mattvey…Good, I'm happy." He smiled and kissed the Canadian's forehead. "They've fixed your chest as best they could…" His expression changed from happy to worried, maybe even terrified? "Mattvey is alright now, da?" The fact that Ivan actually cared for Matthew like that so much made tears come to his eyes and he smiled.

"Da, Mattvey is alright now. Thank you for taking care of me and watching over me…." He tried to sit up, but the pressure in his chest kept him from doing so. He sighed and stared at the roof of the plane, wondering where they were. As though Ivan could read Matthew's mind, he stroked the other's hair and smiled.

"We'll be landing in Moscow in about 5 minutes…" Ivan smiled and stroked Matthew's hand with his thumb. "We can talk about what's going on when we get to my house…" As he said that, their plane landed in Moscow, and Matthew was at the point of no return.


	4. Becoming One

It seemed to take an eternity for the plane to land and for the car to bring Matthew to Ivan's house. He was shocked at how…_extravagant _everything was. Ivan's house was huge, and the insides were decorated with beautiful items such as master paintings, a crystal chandelier, and even beautiful statues around the house. Matthew was in awe as he explored, somewhat struggling to stay upright at times.

"Mattvey…You should rest, you're still injured, and you might exert yourself…" Ivan followed behind him cautiously, prepared to catch Matthew if needed. Matthew shook his head, fascinated by Ivan's house. The Russian watched the small Canadian, quite amused, but took his hand. "Please Mattvey, I insist…" Ivan didn't let Matthew reply before he was dragging the young man to a large room where a king sized bed awaited him. "Da, I believe you will like my room, it's the most comfortable…"

Matthew's eyebrows furrowed. 'My room'…? Is that what Matthew heard? He snatched his hand back from Ivan's, unsure of how he felt. Ivan gave him a surprised look, which then shifted to confusion and awkwardness.

"Ah, I-I didn't mean Mattvey would be sleeping with me…I-I simply meant that, while you are staying with me, you may have my room, da?" Matthew relaxed a little and nodded.

"Th-Thank you Ivan, but y-you don't r-really have to do this. I-I can just stay in a guest room…" He was grateful for what Ivan was doing, but literally giving up his bed to a stranger, it was just too much, but it seemed Ivan wouldn't have it. He shook his head and took Matthew's hand again, squeezing it gently as he led the blond to the bed. Ivan gently nudged Matthew down onto the bed and tucked him in, smiling softly.

"You are comfy, Da? If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. I will be in the next room over if you need me." He started to walk away, but Matthew's quiet squeak of a voice made him stop.

"A-Ah, U-Uh…I-Ivan, i-if you wouldn't m-mind…" Ivan turned to face Matthew, who was bright red, as red as one of Spain's tomatoes. "P-Please…If you wouldn't mind, w-would you stay with me…?" He flushed even more, and even Ivan blushed. Matthew gulped, and fidgeted, his eyes glancing everywhere at once, anywhere but at Ivan. Their awkward silence seemed to last a life-time, but finally, Matthew got the courage and looked up at Ivan. He was smiling gently at the young Canadian and chuckled, making his way back to the bed. He removed his shoes and shrugged his jacket off, keeping his pink scarf on as he crawled under the sheets with Matthew, who was still blushing profusely.

"Relax, Moi Mattvey, no one will hurt you here, not while I'm around." He brushed Matthew's bangs from his face, speaking gently to him. "I will always protect you…" He brought his lips to Matthew's temple, his breath warm against the blonde's skin. He let his eyes flutter shut, and within a few minutes, he was drifting off into his unconscious.

Matthew couldn't tell what was worse, having nightmares, or not dreaming at all. For the first time in a year, Matthew did not dream, did not cry, did not scream, and just simply…swam. He could feel time fly by in the real world at a breakneck pace, and what seemed like only minutes to him was hours out there. His eyes fluttered open, and he stretched to the best of his ability. He let out a tiny moan, his toes curling in delight. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't in his bedroom, and a few more moments to realize he wasn't alone in the bed. His tired eyes drifted to his right and he tensed. _Oh my god..._

Ivan was resting his cheek on Matthew's shoulder, and his arms were wrapped around Matthew's waist tightly. Matthew blushed bright and gulped as he watched Ivan sleep. Something about watching Ivan in this state made his heart flutter and made him smile. Ivan's face was paler than most people, but to his defense, he spent all of his time in a place with almost no sun. As he slept, he looked like a young child and very at ease, perhaps even happy as he lay in Matthew's arms. Matthew bit his lip and blushed. _Why is he suddenly so adorable? The way his lips are parted like that, it's almost as if…as if… _Before he even realized what he was doing, Matthew had gently pressed his lips to Ivan's half-parted ones, kissing him gently and tenderly. The Russian man stirred, and once he realized what was going on, his eyes went wide and he pushed Matthew away out of instinct.

Matthew yelped and turned bright red, covering his mouth. His eyes were wide in horror and embarrassment, and he felt like he could just about die. "I-I-Ivan, I-I didn't m-mean…" He trailed off, gulping and starting to crawl to the end of the bed. Ivan grabbed his hand and yanked it back slightly, stopping Matthew in his tracks. The smaller man let out a squeak; his hand trapped behind him, and glanced back. "I-Ivan..? Wha-…What are you doing?" His voice shook a bit as Ivan edged closer, his other arm wrapping around the Canadian's waist.

"Don't worry, Moi Mattvey…" Ivan kissed Matthew's back, his arm tightening around his friend's waist. "I'll take good care of you…" Matthew let out a small gasp in realization, and tried to get free, utterly failing at Ivan's strength. Ivan's lips kissed up his spine and stopped at the other's neck. Matthew let out a small shiver as Ivan's warm breath hit his neck, followed by a yelp as Ivan bit harshly into the side of said neck. He couldn't stop the moan that formed in the back of his throat when Ivan started to suck, thoroughly marking Matthew, nor could he stop himself from moaning when Ivan's hand dipped below his waist.

"I-Ivan, w-wai- -Aaahn!" Ivan's hand found its way into Matthew's boxers, and began to rub his member, all the while cooing reassurances into his ear. Matthew was tense and terrified, but he couldn't stop himself from getting hard at the Russian's touch, and eventually bucked his hips into the other's hand. Ivan took that as a yes and released Matthew's wrist and removed his hand from his boxers, letting him fall forward on the bed, and flipped him over. Matthew gulped as he stared up into Ivan's lust-filled eyes.

"Mattvey…I do not want to do this against your will, so you need to tell me…Do you want to continue…?" This was rare, Ivan asking permission. Usually, he would just take his prey, regardless if they wanted it-though most did-or not. But there was just something about the blonde beneath him, something that made his heart swell and make the heartstrings twang. He didn't want to hurt him, no, that was the last thing Ivan wanted. Everything about the young boy before him made his heart beat faster; the way his blonde locks fell at his neck, the way his violet eyes, much like his own, shone in the sunlight, the wa- -

"P-Please…Please continue…" Ivan's concentration was broken as he stared in disbelief. Matthew had given him permission…? Is that what he had heard? "Please Ivan…" Ivan stared into Matthew's eyes, which were practically begging for it, and he smiled, bringing their lips together in a soft embrace. He wasted no time in ripping Matthew's pants and boxers right off, followed by the Canadian's bloodied shirt. Matthew let out a little gasp, turning bright red as Ivan marveled at him. The younger man squirmed and fidgeted, though there was no hiding how hard he already was, and it was the same for Ivan. Something about Matthew just drove the Russian crazy, and it was quite obvious.

"Mattvey, my god…" Ivan's eyes graced over the pale beauty before him, his mouth dry. Matthew looked away, a little ashamed, and VERY embarrassed. The feeling of a cold finger at his entrance brought him back to reality, and made him tense up even more, making it impossible for Ivan to even push the tip of his finger in. He sighed and pulled back, stroking Matthew's hair. "Mattvey, if you want this, you must calm down, da; if you don't calm down, then we cannot do anything, understand?" Ivan tried to smile reassuringly, and Matthew relaxed a bit.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry…" Ivan was hesitant to continue now as he stared at the boy before him. He was trembling violently, and even though he had relaxed, it still wasn't enough. Ivan pulled away from him, concern in his eyes.

"Mattvey…? Mattvey, is there something wrong, are you sure you're alright?" Matthew shook his head.

"I-I'm sorry…I-I'm fine though, r-really, I-I just…um…" Matthew squirmed again, biting his lip and turning away. It was then that it dawned on Ivan.

"Mattvey…A-Are you…Are you a _virgin_?" Matthew's entire face, ear to ear, went bright red, and Ivan sighed. No wonder Matthew was so tense; this was only his first time. "Mattvey, trust me, alright? I will not hurt you; I'll take good care of you, so just relax…" Ivan stroked Matthew's cheek gently, giving a reassuring smile.

"…P-Please be gentle with m-me…" Ivan promised he would and brought his finger back to Matthew's entrance, finally able to get it in. _Mother of God,_ Ivan thought to himself, _He's so fucking tight! _He watched Matthew's reaction, terrified he might hurt the poor boy, but when he seemed alright again, Ivan began to prepare him.

"A-Aaah…." Matthew's back arched in a fit of desperation, trying to feel the-now three-fingers within him, preparing him and teasing him. Ivan finally pulled his fingers out, making Matthew whimper at the loss, and lined himself up.

"Ready…?" Ivan watched Matthew intently, his hands at the other's hips. Matthew nodded and clutched the sheets, trying to stay relaxed. Ivan pushed in, only partly, and gasped. He was without a doubt a virgin, and if he did not feel so amazing, Ivan was certain the two of them would be in a bit of pain. "Are you alright, Moi Mattvey?" Ivan was worried about the young boy below him, but couldn't hide the pleasure on his face. Matthew nodded, and didn't seem to be in any pain, so he pushed a little further, eyes flashing up to Matthew, who looked like he was in heaven.

"Oh god…Oh Ivan, it's alright to move, you d-don't have to be s-so gentle!" The Canadian's voice cracked, as though he was choking on the pleasure. Ivan, however, would not comply, simply sat in the heat that was Matthew. It wasn't until the second time that Matthew asked did Ivan nod and start to shallowly thrust, trying to get the young boy used to the motion. With every thrust, Matthew rocked back, clinging tightly to the sheets below them, and cried out when Ivan went harder, deeper into his sweet spot.

Ivan couldn't hide the smirk that spread on his face, and he pulled back a bit before ramming hard into it again. Matthew cried out the other's name again, and arched into the thrust, experiencing pleasure he'd never even imagined.

"Oh god, I-Ivan!" Matthew cried out with each thrust, his body quivering with pleasure. His violet eyes were much more intense than usual as he gazed up at the starlight-haired beauty above him.

"N-No…Mattvey, not Ivan, call me Vanya…please." His own violet eyes were full of love and lust as he smiled gently down at the younger boy. Ivan gave one last ram into the younger boy, causing him to arch as far as he could, screaming 'Vanya' to the world as he climaxed all over the both of them, Ivan following just after him.

Matthew collapsed against the bed, Ivan collapsing next to him, both of them breathless and smiling softly at each other. Ivan's arms immediately wrapped around the smaller, not entirely caring about the mess that littered their torsos, and sighed happily. He could feel the small body next to him relax tremendously, and heard the faint sound of soft snoring, signaling that Matthew had fallen asleep. Ivan couldn't really blame him, after all, this was his first time, and Ivan knew how hard it could be to…take it all in, particularly when your lover was Ivan.

But for Matthew, the peaceful, content moment was shattered as he was jolted awake by the sound of his cell phone going off on the side table. His eyelids drifted open and he turned out of Ivan's arms, reaching somewhat blindly for the phone. His slender fingers finally wrapped around the phone and he sat up, bringing the device to his ear.

"Hello…?" Matthew yawned and let his legs dangle off the side of the bed, Ivan wrapping his arms around his lover's waist and nipping his neck. Matthew 'Mmhmm'd' and all that jazz, not paying much attention to what his boss was saying. There was a sudden pause on the other end, and Matthew raised an eyebrow, not knowing what had his boss so worried. When his boss's voice filtered back through the other end of the line, Matthew's entire body went numb and the phone slipped from his hand, crashing onto the floor.

"Mattvey?" Ivan's tone was panicky and worried as he watched the Canadian, whose hand was still raised as if he still had his phone. After a second, his hand dropped, and he looked as if he'd just seen a ghost. "Mattvey, what is it, what's happened?" Ivan was terribly worried now, but Matthew said nothing, the words still ringing through his head.

_'It was an American bomb; We are at war with America…' _


	5. We're At War

The two sat in silence for a long time, Ivan watching Matthew worriedly, and Matthew staring expressionlessly at the floor, too numb to do anything. Ivan didn't press him, simply sat beside him, holding his hand tightly and stroking the back with his thumb. When Matthew finally spoke, his voice was just barely a whisper, and Ivan strained to hear it.

"…Ontario was bombed by Americans…." Ivan tensed next to Matthew, his grip on the Canadian's hand growing tighter. Another silence followed. Matthew was completely torn. How could this have happened? Canada and America were on such good terms; it just didn't make any sense! Matthew racked his brain, trying to figure out why his brother would do that to him. It dawned on him then. _What if Alfred bombed me because I didn't return his feelings…?_ He shook his head at himself, thinking of how ridiculous that was. He knew Alfred couldn't risk another war, what with his economy being in such jeopardy already, so…why? Matthew got to his feet, taking Ivan by surprise, and started pacing.

Ivan watched him, the worry never once leaving his face. "Mattvey, are you alright…?" Ivan was somewhat afraid to ask, but he just wanted to make sure. Matthew stopped pacing for a moment to flash Ivan an apologetic smile, nod, and go right back to pacing. He knew that Canada was more than equipped to go to war, but he REALLY didn't want to have to attempt to take down the strongest Military in the world. Actually, to be more precise, he really didn't want to fight Alfred. Matthew sighed and ran a hand through his hair, rubbing his temple.

"…I think I have to go home now…" He looked Ivan in the eyes, true regret in his own. He didn't want to leave; in fact, he had never felt more at home than he did while he was with Ivan, but his country needed him. Ivan nodded and stood, not happy that Matthew was leaving, but knew it was for the best. "I think if I can talk things over with Alfred, the war will stop before it goes too far, otherwise…" He trailed off, not really wanting to think about what he'd have to do. Ivan nodded again in understanding and wrapped his arms around the smaller's waist.

"Da, I understand Mattvey. I will have a plane ready in about an hour…until then; will you please fill me in on what is going on?"

.:.

Alfred sat on the porch of his home in the outskirts of L.A, staring up at the brilliant blue sky. It was just a matter of days, he knew, until he and Matthew truly started their war, but he couldn't help feeling anxious. The two brothers hadn't been pitted in war since the 1700's, and it was going to be difficult for Alfred. His economy was in the trash, and he had only just pulled his soldiers from another war. He took a drag of the cigarette that dangled from his fingers and sighed.

_"The Canadian government has hinted to their possible overthrow of the current powers. If we can infiltrate, we may stop a world war." _ That's what Alfred's boss had told him just after the bomb was set off in Ontario. Alfred had no previous knowledge of their intentions, nor did he have any inkling of how strong Canada had gotten. He blew out the smoke and slowly sank onto the steps of the porch. _"I know it's going to be hard Alfred, I know you love your brother, but this has to be done, and it has to be us; if we don't stop the Canadians, they could start an unnecessary war."_ But isn't that what this was? What it was about to be? Just another unnecessary war that the Americans had no business in, and didn't have the money for. He sighed one last time before stamping out his cigarette and walking back inside.

.:.

Matthew stared out the small window of the plane, watching the landscape change below him as he squeezed Ivan's hand. They both had determined that the Russian's would be allied with the Canadians, and both of their bosses said it was a good move. Matthew sighed and turned his gaze away from the window, in favor of leaning on Ivan and using him as a pillow.

_ "It was not something we had anticipated. We're terribly sorry for your immense injuries, but there was no way to stop them. I wish it didn't have to come down to this Matthew, I know how much you love your brother, but this bombing cannot go unnoticed and be ignored. As of right now, we are at war with the Americans." _Matthew sighed as he went over the conversation between himself and his boss over and over.

It was hard to believe that this was how things had ended up between them, between him and Alfred. They were each other's best friends, there for each other when no one else was. It seemed like only yesterday the two had finally become independent from England, and were sharing everything with each other, but now, Matthew was hesitant to tell Alfred anything anymore. It had been this way for a few years now, and it upset him greatly, but he figured that was what happened when two people simply drifted apart. Though he tried, he couldn't stop the few tears that made his way down his face, ignoring Ivan's worried tone as he called to Matthew.

.:.

_"Come on Mattie, you're so slow!" Alfred shouted from the top of the hill. Alfred had always been much faster than Matthew, but that was okay, because Matthew was the smarter one. Matthew's long legs brought him by his brother's side in a matter of seconds, and the two of them stared at each other, panting softly. Alfred smiled his usual, goofy smile, and turned to face south of where they were, where they had been headed just moments ago. Matthew followed his gaze and his eyes widened. _

_ "Alfred…It's so beautiful…" Matthew was awestruck as he stared at the vast canyon that lay below their feet. The sun was setting, and the tones of purple, pink, red, and orange in the sky made it seem as though the rocky terrain was on fire. At the very bottom of the canyon, Matthew could make out the gleaming surface of what appeared to be a river that seemed to cut straight through the rocks. _

_ "Matthew…" Alfred turned to Matthew, his usually playful eyes were serious as the baby blues stared into their violet brothers. Matthew raised a curious eyebrow, thinking that something was wrong. His worry faded when he saw that familiar, goofy smile spread on Alfred's face again, and they laughed together. "Mattie, promise me something. No matter how old we get, no matter what happens, we're always gonna be brothers." Alfred held his pinkie up to his brother, and Matthew smiled. The two brothers wrapped their pinkies together and promised. _

_ "I promise Alfie, we're always going to be brothers. Always…"_

Matthew's eyes fluttered open as he felt a wetness coat his cheeks. He sat up and wiped away the tears that had gathered. He looked around the familiar room, his bedroom, and wondered how and when he'd gotten home. Even though it wasn't a nightmare this time, Matthew still had woken up crying, and there was no one there to comfort him…Ivan was gone, and Matthew was all alone. He grabbed the nearest pillow, buried his face in it, and sobbed brokenly into it.

.:.

A/N: Italics represent inner thoughts, as well as past events. It should be obvious which. Also, thank you all for sticking with me so far, I so appreciate it! Also, I'm sorry for this being such a short chapter, I've been sick all week and I just wanted to update since I was going to be busy this weekend.


	6. The Fall of America

_Date: Approximately three and a half months after war is declared on Canada by the Americans_

_ Location: Just outside the America-Canada border, Canadian side, approximately 50 miles into a surrounding forest. _

Matthew's breath was seen as he panted harshly, trying to catch his breath as he ran through the forest before him, not waiting for Ivan to try to catch up to him. He stumbled a bit as he attempted to race faster than his legs would allow, pistol held tightly in his hand. Someone had tipped off the Canadians of a base just on the other side of a stream, a stream that Matthew knew very well, and he hadn't hesitated before he grabbed his gun and took off, leaving Ivan and the other soldiers shouting after him.

It had been about three and a half months since the war had been declared between America and Canada, and it had already turned into a sheer bloodbath. Both of the brothers were stubborn as hell, and neither was planning on giving in anytime soon. They had already lost a great deal of soldiers, and both sides were suffering dearly, but there was to be no stopping, no breaks; there would be a victor, and Matthew would be damned if it was going to be Alfred.

He was still panting harshly as he ripped through the woods, eyes scanning everything that could be scanned. Finally, just barely out of the corner of his eye, Matthew caught a movement, and was barely able to jump out of the way of a speeding bullet. His chest met the ground first, all of his breath abandoning him as he stared up at a pair of sky-blue eyes, which had lost their glorious luster. Matthew's eyes were just as dark, no longer himself so much as he was now his other self, his darker self.

"…Alfred." Matthew's voice was cold and hard as he stared at his twin brother with such hatred, though Alfred was not phased, his expression matching Matthew's. In such a swift moment, one that took the inability to blink, both brothers were on their feet, Matthew's gun pointed to Alfred's head, Alfred's to Matthew's throat, both ready to pull the trigger at any given second. So this is what it had come down to; two brothers pointing a gun at one another, ready to kill each other for the sake of winning. But that's how wars went, wasn't it? There's no such thing as brotherhood in war, Alfred learned that the hard way during the Civil War. It had only seemed like yesterday the two of them were telling each other everything, and now, they were about to blow each other's heads off.

"Well, well Mattie, my boss was right. You've certainly got quite the fight in you; managing to keep up with someone like me. I've got to admit, I didn't expect you to last this long." Alfred's eyes were playful for a moment, mocking his younger brother, but Matthew only scoffed, making Alfred's temper flare slightly.

"You know, big brother, I was terrified to fight you at first…I sympathized for your situation, both financially and emotionally…But now I know. I've seen your true colors once again. Burning my capitol to the ground, for the second fucking time, bombing my citizens…" Matthew shook his head in fury, clicking the safety off his gun. His eyes didn't so much as flicker when he thought he saw either fear or betrayal flash through Alfred's eyes, even if it was only for a second. Matthew had nothing to be sorry for, this was Alfred's doing, and he would pay for it, but somewhere deep within the recesses of his heart, his true nature was trying desperately to get out, to make the horrid monster that had consumed him stop.

"You wouldn't really pull that trigger; it's not in your nature." Matthew's eyes flashed darkly and dangerously, pressing the barrel of the gun to Alfred's skin, and a terrifying smile crossed his lips when he heard the sharp intake of breath produced by his brother. Matthew was so focused on proving Alfred wrong, he failed to notice the soldier that had appeared from behind, and it was only when the sharp pain racked his head that he finally realized the American soldiers had shown themselves. He felt the blood trickle from the back of his head from where the butt of the soldier's gun had made contact with his skull, and he felt woozy. Matthew was suddenly outnumbered and was too dizzy to try and take a shot. "Ah, my dearest Mattie, did you really think I'd fight fairly in all of this?" Alfred wrapped his fingers around his brother's slender neck, and hoisted him into the air.

"Y-You…You son of a bitch!" Matthew thrashed around, trying to free himself from Alfred's grip. It was futile, and as Alfred's fingers grew tighter, to the point where Matthew could no longer get adequate oxygen into his lungs, he realized how futile it was. He raised his gun to Alfred's head, barely even conscious as he attempted to outdo his brother, and he finally noticed something he hadn't, something that the real Matthew would have noticed right off the bat. Alfred was crying.

.:.

_Date: Three days after America declares war on Canada._

Matthew sat on the old porch swing that he'd had for as long as he could remember. It was freezing out, quite literally, and he shivered as he watched the snow fall. He hadn't heard from Ivan for two days, and admittedly, he was getting incredibly worried, but he decided to just let things run their course. His cell phone sat on the small table next to the swing, waiting for the call that would ensure Ivan was okay, but it never came, and Matthew merely sighed and laid down on the swing.

When he had awoken a few mornings earlier, Ivan was gone and Matthew was all alone. He had almost immediately called Ivan, but got no answer, and hadn't gotten an answer since. Matthew continued to watch the snow fall until his vision blurred and his eyes crossed. His eyelids fluttered closed and his body relaxed, not caring about the dangers of falling asleep out in the snow; he was simply too exhausted and had too much on his mind to care.

And even if Matthew simply didn't care, someone else did, and that someone would not let Matthew freeze to death because of his stubborn ways. Ivan appeared from the forest that surrounded Matthew's second house, and made his way up the steps of the Canadian's porch, kneeling beside him. His large hand swept through the knotted, blonde locks, and the owner of such hair let out a small and happy sigh. Ivan looped his arms under the small Canadian and brought him inside, gently laying him on the couch in the living room. He sighed when he saw the state of the house, regretting having left the other day.

"Mattvey, what have you done here…" It wasn't a question so much as an observation as he looked around the house. Broken glass filled most of the little tables, a few broken pictures here and there. Ivan began to clean up, taking over an hour to get just the glass out of the living room. When he came back, Matthew was curled tightly in a ball, clutching his arms and shivering. There were two things Ivan noticed: 1. Matthew's knuckles as well as parts of his arms were bleeding, and 2. a blanket had been draped over him. Ivan tensed, head whipping around the room as he reached for his pistol.

"Calm down, I will do him no harm." Arthur's voice rang out from the kitchen just behind Ivan. He spun quickly, pistol in his hand and cocked, ready to shoot, but relaxed when he saw it was only Arthur.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Ivan completely meant to sound as hostile as he did as he eyed the blonde nation suspiciously. There was something about Arthur's presence that really put Ivan at unease, and for quite a few minutes, the two sat glaring daggers at each other.

"I think I'm entitled to visit my son, Braginski. The real question is: why is there suddenly a war between America and Canada, suspiciously after _YOU_ come into Matthew's life." Arthur's voice was cold as he made his comment as accusingly as possible. Ivan's anger got the best of him and he grabbed Arthur by the collar, jerking him forward until their faces were just inches apart.

"Watch your tongue Kirkland, before I cut it from that pretty little mouth of yours." Ivan growled furiously. Arthur attempted to hide the fear within him, but clearly failed when he saw the smirk that cracked along Ivan's mouth. "That's better; you're much better when you keep your mouth shut~" He teased. The soft moan that came from the couch made both of them stop and pull sharply away from each other. Matthew was stretching his back, toes curling happily as he awoke. His violet eyes fluttered open and he gasped, sitting up straight and jumping when he saw the two older countries.

"F-Father, Vanya, what are you two doing here?" Matthew scrambled to his feet and looked between the two old nations quizzically. Arthur dusted off his uniform and sneered at Matthew, causing the young Canadian to flinch and turn away.

"I'm here to find out what the hell is going on between you and Alfred. A war? Are you out of your bloody little mind?" Arthur shouted, causing Matthew to cower away.

"W-Wait a second….Y-You think _I _started this? Arthur, this is a-all Alfred's fault! It was his bomb that a-attacked me! It was his boss that declared war, not mine!" Matthew cried, feeling like Arthur had stabbed him in the chest. Arthur merely rolled his eyes and turned for the door.

"I'm not going to tolerate much more of this from you Matthew. Fix it, or Francis and I will." Arthur swung the door open, but not before Matthew lunged for him. A pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around Matthew's form, holding him back from a startled Arthur. The British man let out a small gasp when he saw the look of pure hatred in Matthew's now dark eyes, as though something had snapped. Arthur gulped and stumbled out, slamming the door behind him. Matthew glared at the floor, Ivan's arms still wrapped tightly around him.

"Mattvey, I'm so sor-.." Matthew cut him off by shaking his head and pulling out of his grasp. Ivan's arms dangled at his side as Matthew did anything to keep his mind preoccupied; pick up around the house, dust, anything. Just as quickly and abruptly as he started though, he stopped, lurched over a small table in the hallway. The two of them sat in silence for what seemed like eternity, Ivan watching him with semi-saddened eyes and feeling like he had no right to say anything. He let out an almost silent gasp, lips parted slightly and arm extending towards Matthew as the smaller nation started to tremble, seeing the tears fall from his flawless face. Ivan lunged for the other when Matthew's knees buckled below him and he collapsed, the tall Russian catching him just before his body met the floor.

"Mattvey…" He whispered softly as he held the Canadian against himself. He leaned against the wall opposite the small table and rocked with Matthew, whispering sweet Russian words into the blonde locks that belonged to his young lover. "I'm so sorry Mattvey. Arthur is a moron, he doesn't know anything. You are the most wonderful person I've ever met, and if those inferior assholes can't see that, then to hell with them; they don't deserve to have you." He removed his black gloves and wiped away the tears that seemed to endlessly pour down Matthew's face.

"Why did you leave me…?" Matthew's voice cracked, and Ivan had to strain to hear it due to the very low and quiet volume it took on. Ivan sighed as he brushed the golden-wheat hair off of Matthew's pale face.

"It wasn't my choice, Мой подсолнечника…I had to return home for a bit to set up some things…" He kissed the top of Matthew's head. "I had every intent on returning, but I had to make sure it was alright if I stayed with you…I-It is alright, da?" Ivan asked softly, words somewhat muffled against Matthew's hair. He tensed when the small country gave no reply, but relaxed again when he heard the faint sound of deep breathing that accompanied sleep. He sighed and stood, carrying the small nation upstairs and laying him on the bed, starting to work on the cuts that littered his arms, most likely from all the broken glass from earlier. "Mattvey…" He sighed and watched him sleep, never leaving his side and never letting his hand go.

.:.

Matthew's eyes fluttered open and he hissed, immediately closing them again. The light was too intense for him to handle as his head throbbed. He felt two strong hands grasp his tighter, and he opened his eyes again. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face as he looked over at Ivan, who was fast asleep in a chair beside the bed, face buried in the sheets, and his hands holding tightly to Matthew's. His eyelids became heavy again, and before he knew it, he was fast asleep once again, the throbbing behind his head halting for the moment.

.:.

_ Date: Approximately three and a half months after war is declared on Canada by the Americans_

_ Location: Just outside the America-Canada border, Canadian side, approximately 48 miles into a surrounding forest._

"Alfred…Y-You're so weak…" Matthew struggled to speak as everything started to go black around him. Involuntarily, he wiped away the tear that was making its descent down his brother's cheek, emitting a gasp from the older twin.

"Sh-Shut up! You're the weak one, not me!" Alfred growled, tightening his hold on Matthew's throat. Matthew tried again to squirm free, but as the world started to spin and he started to slip unconscious, he stopped. His finger wrapped around the trigger of his gun, no longer knowing where it was pointing, and collapsed to the ground, a ringing and screaming filling his ears. He gasped; inhaling the much needed air, and began to cough harshly, not sure what had happened. His eyes drifted open, but he was very disoriented; the only thing that registered was that he was covered in blood, and beside him, his brother was bleeding out beside him.

"…A-Alfred…?" Matthew sat up, blinking in confusion as he stared at his brother. Where the hell was he? What had happened? It was then his memory came crashing back at him, and he gasped, tears automatically filling his eyes. "No…" He struggled to crawl over to his brother, but once there, he picked up his head and held him tightly. "Oh god…Alfred, I'm so sorry…" He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he pressed their foreheads together, tears dripping onto his brother's pale face. "Open your eyes…please big brother, open your eyes!" He cried, hand trembling as it caressed Alfred's cold cheeks. He let out a small gasp as movement flickered beneath Alfred's eyelids.

"Mattie…?" Alfred groaned, struggling to open his heavy eyelids. When he finally managed to get them open, he smiled sadly. "H-Hey, no tears soldier, y-you're not supposed to cry for your enemy." He let out a soft chuckle, groaning in pain, making Matthew cry harder. Alfred frowned and raised a trembling hand to wipe the tears away. "Your eyes are back to normal Mattie." He smiled softly again, bringing Matthew's head forward and pressing a soft kiss to his brother's temple.

"Y-Yours are too…Alfred, I'm so sorry…" Matthew's lip quivered, and he gasped when Alfred's body started to become transparent. "A-Alfred…? A-Alfred, no! You can't leave yet, please!" Matthew begged as Alfred's baby blues closed, a smile still plastered on his face.

"I love you Mattie, I hope you know that…Even though we've been fighting, I hope you know that you'll always be my brother…I'll always love you…" Alfred's voice drifted off at the end as his body fully dissolved in Matthew's arms.

"No…" Matthew's eyes were wide in horror as he started to shake his head frantically. "No…! No, no, no, no, no!" Matthew cried out, burying his face in his palms as his fingers pulled at his blonde hair. He could hear the footsteps near him, but he didn't care whose they were. His brother was dead because of him, this was the only thing going through his head. The United States of America had fallen.

A/N: Forgive my lack of updating; I've been going through hell trying to get my grades up. But I hope this somewhat makes up for it…no? Okay…

Translations:

_Мой подсолнечника- My sunflower (Russian)_


	7. Dandelions and the Dead

A soft gasp formed from one of them, and Matthew felt a bare hand make contact with the side of his face and knocking him to the ground.

"You son of a bitch!" Arthur screamed, thrashing about in Francis's arms as he tried to beat the life out of Matthew. Said Canadian cowered away, eyes back to their normal violet hue as he stared with a blood and tear streaked gaze up at his fathering countries. "What have you done? You killed him! You killed your own _BROTHER_!" Arthur screamed at him, tears in his eyes. Matthew gulped, a lump forming in his throat and preventing him from speaking. It was only as a large figure appeared behind Matthew did Arthur finally calm down enough to stop thrashing. Ivan leaned down beside Matthew and stroked the red-tinted locks.

"Mattvey, you're bleeding badly…" Ivan muttered, inspecting the back of Matthew's head where the soldier had hit him. Matthew hadn't really noticed the dizziness that had drifted through him until Ivan reminded him of the wound, and with its reminder, his endorphins left him and he felt the sheer pain of his cracked skull. He cried out softly, slumping forward and propping himself up, though his eyes never left Arthur's.

"Mon Petite…." Francis whispered as he stared at the horror before him, the amount of blood that was splattered around the snow and on Matthew's own pale face, some of it his, though most of it Alfred's. Francis sighed, still holding a sobbing and trembling Arthur back as he shook his head. "Une telle déception…Je m'attendais à mieux de vous." Francis said critically, eyes no longer loving as they had once been. Matthew felt the fury build up in him, eyes changing colors again and making Francis gulp and gently pull Arthur back. "Angleterre…" He whispered to Arthur. "His eyes…" Arthur looked up and stiffened.

"I'm a disappointment…That's all I am to anyone in this family…" Matthew had dropped his gaze to the snow, body trembling in anger. Ivan placed a hand onto his shoulder, but the young Canadian shrugged it away with fury. "It was always Alfred, always the shining star in your eyes. I'm just his shadow, that's all I'll ever be." No one said anything, their gazes watching Matthew intently. He swallowed the lump in his throat as hot, burning tears coated his face. "I hate you…I hate you all so much!" He screamed, head snapping up at Francis and Arthur.

"Mattvey…" Ivan whispered sadly, closing his eyes and trying to block out Matthew's crying.

.:.

_Date: Approximately a month after war is declared on Canada by the Americans. _

_ Location: Ontario, Canada, where the capitol is currently being burned to the ground by a group of soldiers, Alfred F. Jones leading them. _

Matthew stared in pure horror, brought to his knees in agony as he watched his capitol burn to the ground. He was lurched over, body shaking and trembling as he tried to get air into his lungs over the burning sensation. His vision was impaired by the smoke that made his eyes water and fogged his glasses, but he couldn't mistake the sound of ice crunching under heavy boots as they made their way towards his small frame. Matthew picked his head up, and had barely enough time to move his head to the side to avoid his eye being cut from the socket. A sharp hiss escaped him as a blade dug deeply into the side of his cheek, eliciting him to cry out.

"If a tiny little cut hurt you that bad, how is it you're still fighting so strongly brother?" Alfred's cold voice rang out over the screaming of his citizens. Matthew's violet-to-coal colored eyes traveled around the scene before him, fighting back tears. The dead bodies from the bombs littered the streets, and the entire town was glowing in the most beautiful yet most heart aching flames.

"All these people…all these innocent lives…" Matthew's voice broke as he choked on a sob, body trembling in agony and fury. Alfred's face was emotionless as he stared down at his younger brother, knife in one hand and pistol in the other. "I swear to god, I will avenge my people, not matter what it takes, do you understand me?" Matthew screamed, jumping to his feet and getting one good hit to Alfred's stomach before the older twin could even comprehend what had happened. A sharp gasp left his lips as he doubled over, Matthew letting him drop to the ground as he stood tall in the glow of fire. "Remember this big brother, I'm not just going to sit here and take the abuse. You wanted this war, and now you've got it." With that, Matthew turned on his heel and walked away, Ottowa burning to his backside.

_Date: Approximately three and a half months after war is declared on Canada by the Americans_

_ Location: Just outside the America-Canada border, Canadian side, approximately 48 miles into a surrounding forest._

"That's enough Matthieu! You have the right to be upset, but not to blame us for what's gone wrong. Neither one of us wanted this war to go on; _you_ are the one who could have stopped it. You're the mature one Matthieu, and instead of acting like it, you acted like a child." Matthew stared up at Francis in disbelief, unable to say anything. His eyes were dark like coals once again as he glared at his parents with such hatred. A quick movement caught all three countries-Francis, Arthur, and Ivan-completely off guard and Arthur dropped to the snow covered ground, clutching his shoulder tightly.

"Treat me like a child, then I'll act like one. From this point on, Canada is at war with England and France." Matthew's voice was cold and ruthless as he stood and turned abruptly from the two older blondes, making his way back to his house a few miles inland. The three elder countries stared in disbelief, but it was Ivan who raced after Matthew, taking his hand and squeezing it. Matthew squeezed in return, waiting until Arthur and Francis were out of ear shot to stop and let out a choked sob.

"Ssh…" Ivan pulled Matthew into him, gently placing his hand on the back of Matthew's head, trying to avoid the still bleeding gash. "I'm so sorry Mattvey, for everything." He swept the small Canadian into his arms bridal style and proceeded to carry him back to the house, trying to block out the gasps and sobs that left the boy's mouth. He nudged the front door open and went to the bathroom, setting the still crying Canadian down on the sink and fixing up his head wound, as well as bandaging a few small cuts he'd gotten. When he was done, Ivan smiled a bit sadly up at Matthew, who leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the Russian's lips before slumping against him in exhaustion.

"Thank you for staying with me Vanya…I can't do this without you…" He murmured as Ivan picked him up again and moved him to the bedroom upstairs. Ivan's lips caressed the top of the Canadian's head as he walked to the bed and laid him down. Matthew smiled weakly before his head flopped to the side and he was fast asleep. Ivan sighed and pulled the covers over him, sitting on the edge beside him and stroking his pale cheek.

"I'm so sorry Mattvey. I'm sorry for leaving you that day, I'm sorry that this war started, I'm sorry that you're in so much pain, I'm sorry you had to kill your brother…" Ivan tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he leaned down and brushed his lips on Matthew's temple, whispering against the cold skin. "I'm so sorry Mattvey…I love you so much."

.:.

_ "Artie, Artie! Look at what we found!" Alfred cried happily as he and Matthew raced up to Arthur, tiny bodies quivering with eagerness and strain from the run. Arthur turned to face the two small boys and smiled lovingly down at them, kneeling to their level as he stared quizzically at what was in Alfred's hands. _

_ "Oh? And what is it you two have found?" Arthur smiled as the two brothers giggled and Alfred opened his hands to reveal two dandelions. Arthur smiled sweeter and took the flowers from Alfred, motioning for the two to come closer to him. "Here, twin dandelions for the twins of North America." He said softly as he tucked one flower behind Alfred's ear, and tucking the other on the opposite side of Matthew's face. The two brothers turned to each other and giggled like the children they were. _

_ "Mattie looks so cute with a flower in his hair!" Alfred squealed and tackled Matthew in a hug. Matthew squeaked as the two crashed to the ground in each other's arms, not being strong enough to hold the two of them up. After a moment of silence, the two trying to figure out what had happened, Arthur burst into laughter, following backwards onto his bottom as he laughed. The twins looked at him, then back at each other, and soon all three of them were laughing happily like a real family. When they had all settled down, the two small boys crawled over to Arthur and curled up beside him under the tall tree that shaded part of their front yard. The elder nation sang quietly to them, stroking the mess of blond locks that covered the top of the boys' heads and coaxing them to sleep. _

_ "No matter what happens, you are my boys, and I'll always love you." Arthur whispered to the young brothers, whose hands were clasped with each other across Arthur's lap. "I will always love you…" He whispered again as he settled against the tree trunk, and all three were fast asleep within a few minutes. _

.:.

Matthew gasped and sat up, tears coating his cheeks as his head snapped around desperately. He had heard it, he knew he did; Alfred's voice just a moment before he'd woken up. After a few minutes of looking around the dark room, he sighed in anguish and hugged his knees. His fists clenched and he gasped as he felt his fingers curl around something, something that hadn't been there when he fell asleep. His hand uncurled and the tears came faster. Within his trembling palm lay a tiny flower-a dandelion, the same one from his memories. Ivan sat up when he realized his love had stirred and looked at him worriedly.

"Mattvey? Mattvey, what is it?" He said in a panicked tone, caressing the other's cheeks in an attempt to stop the tears. To his shock, Matthew smiled, even if it did seem sad, and leaned over to peck Ivan gently.

"A-Alfred's forgiven me…" He whispered as he tugged Ivan down and curled into his arms, dandelion held tightly to his chest just above his heart, and for just a moment, the war was forgotten as he slept as peacefully as he had in years.

.:.

A figure, shadowed by the dark of the night and concealed by the trees, stood just outside the home of his former son. This war had to be stopped now, before any more people got hurt, and if that meant killing Matthew in the cruelest of ways, then he'd do it. Arthur took in a shaky breath as he emerged from the wood, tears blurring his vision.

"I can't do this Frog…I just can't. He's my son." Arthur whimpered, and Francis sighed in frustration, standing beside the other.

"Angleterre, I know this hurts, but if we want this to end, we 'ave to do it. He's my son too you know." Francis nudged him forward, but when Arthur still wouldn't move, he sighed and took the matches himself. He walked up the front porch and struck the match against the wood of the old swing, dropping the match and letting the flames catch onto the fire bees to honey. He swiftly made his way off the porch and pulled the now hysterically sobbing Arthur back into the woods, away from the growing flames as they lit up the star filled sky. 

A/N: It might be a while before I update again, if I don't update by this weekend, so here's another chapter of the story a few days early~ I hope you enjoyed it and continue to read.

Translations: Une telle déception…Je m'attendais à mieux de vous-Such a disappointment…I expected better of you (French)

Angleterre-England (French)


	8. All is Fair

Ivan's eyes darted open as the smell of smoke filled his nostrils and thoroughly burned his lungs. He sat up with a jolt, head whipping around towards the door, where an orange light filed in through the crack. Ivan paled and shook Matthew's shoulders.

"Mattvey, Mattvey get up now! We have to get out of here now!" He cried desperately. Matthew stirred, though not enough to fully wake up, and turned over. "Mattvey!" He shouted, causing the poor young Canadian to jump and spring to his feet.

"W-What? What's going on, where's the fire?" Matthew cried, head whipping around in every direction to see where the danger was. Ivan stood with him, throwing the door open and hissing as the flames tried to engulf him. Matthew shrieked and yanked him back, staring in horror. "No!" He cried as Ivan pulled him back and towards the window of Matthew's bedroom. He pulled away enough to grab a few precious things: his favorite family picture, an old stuffed polar bear he'd been given years ago as a child, and a picture of himself and Alfred together.

"Do you trust me?" Ivan said in panic, eyes wide with fear. Matthew nodded quickly and yelped when Ivan swept him off his feet. What happened next happened in such a blur that Matthew thought for sure he was dreaming. Ivan crashed through the glass of Matthew's bedroom window, the small Canadian clutched to the Russian's broad chest, and they were suddenly free-falling to their deaths. There was a loud crack, a sharp cry of pain, the feeling of dizziness, and an unsettling quiet. The only sound for miles was the sound of Matthew's childhood home crumbling in the arms of the fire.

The quiet seemed to last for hours as Matthew had tried to figure out what had just happened. His head was pounding hard enough to the point where he heard it in his ears, felt it throughout his body, and his eyes were watering from the smoke. It took a few minutes to realize that there was no movement coming from the main holding him, nor any sounds.

"…V-Vanya…?" Matthew croaked out. No reaction. No sudden gasp of breath. No fluttering of his heart. Nothing. The young Canadian's eyes widened in horror, squirming out of Ivan's arms and sitting up as he stared at the pale and lifeless face. "Vanya, Vanya wake up! Please my love, you have to get up!" He cried, tears stinging his eyes as he shook the older's shoulders, despite the immense pain in his own. "Vanya get up, please! Say something, move, do something, please!" He screamed, collapsing against the other's chest, ear pressed to his shirt fir signs of life. Nothing.

Matthew swallowed hard, pulling back and searching the lifeless face. His skin crawled as tears ran down his cheeks, raising a gentle hand to Ivan's cheek and stroking it gently. "Please…" He whispered as he leaned down and kissed Ivan's cold lips gently. The sudden movement beneath him made Matthew squeak and quickly pull back, watching as the Russian man he'd come to love was slowly brought back from the dead. Ivan coughed harshly, finally breathing again, and opened his eyes. He smiled softly when he saw Matthew was alive and well and he struggled to sit up.

"Vanya, y-you shouldn't move!" Matthew protested, trying to push the other back down but losing the fight. Ivan pulled Matthew's wrist, eliciting a sharp cry of pain as his arm was pulled further from the socket in his shoulder, and he quickly let go. He managed to get the other's shirt off and inspect the damage, sighing when he concluded that Matthew did in fact have a dislocated shoulder.

"Mattvey, listen very carefully to me, da? I'm going to pop this back into place, but it's going to hurt. Bad." He took the discarded shirt and gave it to Matthew for him to bite on. "Are you ready?" Matthew took a deep breath, bit onto his shirt, and nodded. The sheer pain not only made him scream in utter agony, but made Matthew black out collapse against Ivan; never in his life had he ever felt such a searing pain, and the aching that came with it only made things worse. Ivan sighed and picked up the unconscious Canadian, as well as his belongings that he'd managed to save, and started off for the base about 4 miles from their location.

.:.

When Matthew came to about three days later, there were approximately three things he noticed. 1. He had no idea where he was, 2. There were at least 15 people standing over him, and 3. He was strapped to a bed.

Immediately, Matthew started to scream bloody murder, pulling tight against the restraints that pinned him to his bed. A sharp, ripping pain in his shoulder caused his vocal chords to cut out on themselves, and caused his body to cease and desist its thrashing. In all honesty, he would have kept screaming until he'd done permanent damage to his voice box or vocal chords, and not even the pain could stop him for long. If not for a sudden familiar and large hand caressing his face, he wouldn't have calmed down.

"Mattvey, it's alright now, da? You are safe at the medical base. Do not move around, your shoulder is still very injured." Ivan's hand took Matthew's as he sat in a chair beside his hospital bed. "Do you remember what happened?" Matthew turned to Ivan and shook his head, having no memory of how they got here, or why they needed to be here in the first place. Ivan sighed and nodded. "I'm not surprised…" He muttered under his breath as he started to undo the restraints holding Matthew.

Matthew struggled to keep his eyes open, eyelids becoming heavy with drowsiness as he stared at Ivan, waiting for an explanation. Instead, Ivan simply stroked Matthew's hair, thumb brushing his forehead as he hummed gently, coaxing the Canadian to sleep. And sleep he did.

It was another two days before Matthew stirred again, and he was just as disoriented as the last time. He started to sit up, bracing himself on his right arm to avoid the pain from his left shoulder, and looked around. His doctors, as well as Ivan, were gone, and it was just him in the infirmary. Matthew sighed and leaned back against the bed, slipping his hospital gown off his shoulder gently and inspecting his arm. The doctors had tied some sort of cloth under his armpit and around his neck to keep everything in tact during his recovery, but it was awkward and was nearly choking him. He glanced around, making sure no one was there, and carefully slipped it off from his neck, releasing the stiffened shoulder.

"Ah…" He sighed happily, the pressure released and allowing him some comfort. He carefully swung his legs over the bed and got up, starting to make his way through the hospital building. The more Matthew walked, the more worried he became; no one was in sight, no one in any of the other rooms, and he still couldn't locate Ivan. "Hello? Is anyone even here?" He called, holding his arms to try to beat the cold that was swarming him. "Vanya, anyone?" Up ahead, about 50 yards from where he was, he could scarcely hear faint yelling, and…Matthew gasped and flew to the doors, flinging them open and staring in horror. Dead bodies littered the snow in front of the medical center, and it looked like a terrible battle was going on. Bullets zoomed past him and he yelped, jumping to the side.

Matthew gasped, eyes falling on the image of a particular Russian, one who happened to be kneeling in the snow, arm clutching a bloody shoulder, and shooting frantically. "Vanya!" Matthew screamed, getting to his feet and stumbling over. Said Russian's head snapped back, eyes wide in horror.

"Mattvey! Get out of here now!" Ivan said, pushing Matthew back towards the medical center. "They're French, and they're after you! Get out of here before they find you!" Matthew's eyes were wide and he shook his head frantically.

"N-No! I-I won't leave you, not here!" He cried, trying to pull Ivan back to the base. Ivan stood, swept Matthew into his arms, and started to run back to the base. It was too sudden, too painful. Matthew's head bounced against the snow and dirt as Ivan's body crashed against him. Matthew struggled to sit up, cradling a limp Ivan in his arms as he stared in horror at the bullet wound that was now spilling blood from his stomach. "Vanya!" Matthew screamed, pressing his hands onto the wound to stop the bleeding. Ivan cried out at the contact, but Matthew didn't pull back. "I'm so sorry, I know it hurts…" He whispered, brushing his lips against Ivan's sweaty temple. "Hang in there my love…Please…" He begged. Matthew turned to look at the destruction taking place before him, and he felt sick to his stomach.

There was crunching of snow behind him, but Matthew couldn't hear it over the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and his own heart pounding harshly in his ears. It was only when the cloth was pressed to his mouth, when he tried to scream for help, when the world went black again that he was aware of the man behind him, but by then, it was too little too late. The last thing he remembered was Ivan's scream.

.:.

It was so cold, much colder than Matthew had ever experienced before. His body was stripped bare, and he was trembling. He was shackled to a wall, wrists being cut by the cuffs that held him in place, and ankles dealing with the same problem. His face was swollen from bruising, having suffered multiple blows, as well as the gashes made upon his tender skin by a knife. The image of this once innocent boy looked like it'd been taken out of the most horrific movie known to man. He was gasping for air, his trachea being cut into by a collar his captors had placed on him to make sure he didn't move, and hadn't stopped crying since he'd come to. Why was this happening to him?

"We warned you Mon Cher, but you just wouldn't listen…" Francis said as he entered the room. Matthew gasped sharply, causing him to cough as he searched around for his former Papa. His violet eyes had been blindfolded upon being kidnapped, but it was obvious he was crying as the tears continued to spill down his face. The sudden feel of hands on his cheeks made him stiffen and hold back a cry of pain as Francis's delicate fingers moved across the bloodied cuts, sores, and bruises. His hands moved behind Matthew's head and unlaced the blindfold, as well as removed the collar that bound his son's neck. "I'm sorry Matthieu, but you brought this on yourself…after all, you know the saying, all is fair in love and war? Well, this is war, and it's fair game when you play with the big boys…" Francis stroked Matthew's cheek, eliciting sharp cries from the agonized nation, much to Francis's amusement. He started to lean in, and once close enough, pressed his lips to the young Canadian's. Matthew's eyes were wide with horror as he tried to fight back against Francis. His wrists were cut sharply as he struggled to get free, and it made the other nation agitated. "Stop moving and this will be as painless as possible." Francis ordered, causing Matthew to flinch back

"W-What are you doing, you monster?" Matthew screamed, much to the disapproval of both Francis and his own vocal chords. Francis's eye started to twitch and he stood, smacking Matthew harshly across his face. A mixture of blood, sweat, and saliva dripped from his mouth as he tried to calm himself down, tried to regain his composure.

"Behave Matthieu, and I'll make it as painless as I can." Francis whispered into Matthew's ear, wiping the tears away. "Arthur doesn't have to know this happened; he still thinks I'm being too hard on you, but I think otherwise. You killed your brother and you are now the strongest nation on earth, but even _I _can tame the great Canada if I tried, and try I shall." Matthew practically stopped breathing when he felt a hand start to stroke him, gently and lovingly. If not for being tied up and so abused as he was, one could mistake it for a lover's touch. But it was not a lover's touch; it was the touch of someone who would do anything to get what they wanted, even if that meant hurting their own family.

"You bloody liar!" Arthur screamed from behind Francis, hitting him hard over the head with something. Matthew couldn't tell what it was, but by the loud crack sound he heard, it couldn't have been soft. Arthur moved over to Matthew, eyes widened in horror as he stared at his mangled form.

"A-Arthur... Y-You coward!" Matthew screamed, rage filling his body. Arthur halted his movements towards Matthew, staring at him. "You a-and F-Francis…I-Is this how y-you stop a war? K-Kidnap me and t-torture me until I'm practically d-dead!" Arthur looked blank, fighting back tears as he bit his lip.

"…M-Matthew, I had nothing to do with this…" He whispered as he caressed Matthew's damaged cheek. "I had n-no idea…." Arthur reached down and Matthew flinched, thinking Arthur was going to take advantage of him, though was thoroughly surprised with the pressure on his ankles diminished, his wrists following. Not having any strength in his system, Matthew collapsed against the trembling Brit, who stroked the red-stained blonde curls that hung from Matthew's head. "I'm so sorry Matthew…Th-This was never supposed to happen…" Arthur whispered to him, and kisses his forehead. Matthew felt a sharp prick in his arm and felt the world turn black around him.

.:.

_"Matthew come back here!" Arthur shouted after Matthew, who was running as fast as he could away from his home. Arthur chased after him, mentally kicking himself for being so insensitive to his son. "Matthew, I'm sorry! Please come back, you'll get hurt!" Matthew ignored him and ran faster, refusing to stop. Arthur had to stop, had to rest just a moment, but that moment was all it took for Matthew to get out of his sight, and immediately, too many dangerous thoughts went through the country's mind._

_ Even after he was long out of Arthur's view, Matthew didn't stop running, didn't seem to have the ability. It was only when he was in a flower field that he finally managed to stop, knees buckling below him and dropping him hard to the ground. Matthew was panting as he lay amongst the flowers, sun bathing him in warmth, though he felt cold. 'Why can't Matthew be just a little bit more like you Alfred? You're always so eager, happy to learn whenever you can. He can be such a bother sometimes.' This is what Matthew heard Arthur saying about him, and it crushed him almost as bad as when Papa had given him up to Mama. _

_ Matthew buried his face into the dirt and wailed, cursing anyone he could think of-Arthur, Alfred, Francis, anyone!-in French. In all honesty, he should've been used to this treatment by now, after all, Arthur had always favored Alfred, and this was blatantly obvious. But Matthew couldn't seem to get over it. He wasn't used to being outshined by someone, having always been the favorite for Francis, and though he felt spoiled for thinking it, he wished Arthur would give him the attention he gave Alfred. The small fact that Arthur didn't love him as much made Matthew cry harder. _

_ "What are you doing out here little one? You are lost, da?" A deep voice asked a few feet from where Matthew was laying. Said boy gasped and stumbled to his knees, fear coursing through him as he realized who had addressed him. _

_ "R-R-Russia…" Matthew stuttered, stumbling to his feet and backing away. The Russian gave a sour look and stepped closer, violet eyes playful, though his face seemed dark and looming. Matthew's tears came faster as he turned to run, though was caught by his wrist and yanked back. "P-Please don't h-hurt me!" He cried, cowering beneath the intimidating country. Russia grimaced and backed up from Matthew, leaving him utterly surprised. _

_ "I would not hurt such a pretty face, da? Now then…" Russia reached into his coat, making Matthew flinch. He had heard many stories of Russia and his pipe, and he never wanted to be on the other end of it. He relaxed greatly when Russia removed a handkerchief and kneeled beside the sniveling Canadian. His stroked the boy's pale cheeks, offering a gentle smile as he dabbed at the cut on Matthew's cheek from when he'd fallen, and started to wipe the tears away. "Will you tell me why you were crying?" Matthew hiccupped and sat in Ivan's lap when he patted his leg, stroking the beautiful blonde locks that reminded him of his beloved sunflowers. _

_ "I-I-I'm alright….I-I just overreacted…p-papa doesn't want m-me anymore…and E-England didn't want m-me to begin with…" Matthew's bottom lip started to tremble again as he wiped his eyes. "S-So th-that's why I-I'm crying…" Ivan nodded in understanding, rubbing his back. _

_ "So then, you are Kanada, da? My little neighbor up north?" Russia asked, eyes innocent and childish as he smiled. Matthew nodded and sniffled, drying his eyes. "Ah, well, little Kanada, pay no mind to what England of all people thinks. I think you're a very sweet boy; that counts for something da?" Matthew looked up at Ivan with wide eyes and blushed. _

_ "Matthew! Please, where are you? I'm so sorry for what I said, please forgive me! Matthew!" Arthur shouted a little up the road, making Matthew turn in his direction. _

_ "You should go back to him, da? He does sound very sorry, and you'll get sick if you stay out here come night time. If Kanada ever needs anything, just ask Mother Russia, da?" Ivan said as he gently picked the boy off his leg and set him down on his feet. He handed Matthew the handkerchief and smiled. "Keep this with you, if you need it, then use it as you like." Ivan kissed Matthew's forehead and swiftly walked away, leaving the Canadian the wrath of England._

_ "Matthew, there you are!" Arthur panted, raising his hand at Matthew's level. Matthew flinched, but let out a small gasp when Arthur pulled their bodies together. "Don't you _EVER _scare me like that again; I thought you might've been killed!" Arthur whispered to him, holding him tight to the point where Matthew couldn't breathe. The small boy started to tremble and clung to England's jacket, sobbing into the fabric. _

_ "F-Father…" He whispered as he cried, Arthur's gentle whispers calming him, and actually pulled for a small smile._


End file.
